


Symphony of Silence

by MaxwellEyre



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Armitage Holmes, Gallifrey, Lord of Darkness, Original Doctor Who, Other, Regeneration, Soul Bond, The Fourteenth Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 17:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14086038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxwellEyre/pseuds/MaxwellEyre
Summary: After a visit to a planet they thought relatively harmless, the Doctor's companion, Armitage Holmes, is shot by one of the locals. It doesn't seem to be a bad wound, but upon closer inspection, it's far worse than the Doctor had thought. Doing the only thing in his power to keep Holmes alive, the Doctor does something he never thought he would have to do. And it yields devastating results.NOTE:This is part of a story I am going to be writing later on, which is why it ends how it does. This story takes place during the Doctor's fourteenth regeneration, which is of my own creation. I will be publishing the full story on this account later on.Doctor Who does not belong to me: It is the property of the BBC (or whoever owns it now)





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story!  
> I wrote this for my mid-term in English. I was pretty proud of it and decided to post it here. Leave me feedback, please!  
> This short story is, actually, part of another Doctor Who series I'm going to work on. I don't want to spoil anything, but: Armitage Holmes (the Doctor's Companion) is a Time Lord. I know, very cliche.

It's an empty planet. 

The landscape is much the same as North America back on Earth; mountains, plains, and forests. But, there is no snow blanketing the mountaintops or pine-covered forest grounds. In fact, there is no precipitation on this planet at all. There is only a chilling cold that accompanies the overcast skies. It seems as if there is no sun that hits this planet, but that would mean there is no life. 

Yet there is life here, hidden deep beneath the planet's surface. They are a thriving race, capable of space travel after only a few thousand years of evolution. Their smallest cities here are the size of New York back on Earth. The skyscrapers--if they could be called that--are made of precious metals; silver and ruthenium. They stand tall and dominate the outskirts of the city, protecting the species that live inside. They are so inherently alien, it's surprising to see that they are human. Well, human-like. They have the same skin as those from Earth; same intelligent minds and wandering hearts. Searching for a life among the stars. However, despite being human, there is one defining difference. 

They are violent. 

If someone from Earth heard this, they wouldn't find this different; the human race was known for being brilliantly violent. It's the one they thing they have going for them. But, you haven't met these kinds of humans. They are so vile and destructive, they border on the edge of machine. That's how this story will begin and end. 

 

The Doctor burst through the TARDIS doors, carrying a limp--and dying--form in his arms. His vibrant red hair is very disheveled and lips are slightly parted, making him look younger than he already is. His breath is rapid and his heart is double--well, quadruple--what it should be. His eyes wouldn't open, no matter how many times the Doctor says his name. He chants it as if it were a mantra, the only thing holding him to this here and now. 

"Armitage Holmes," he tries through gritted teeth. "Don't you dare die on me, not yet." There is no response. The Doctor growls in frustration and, seeing he has no other options, hurries down the main corridor of the ship, clutching Armitage tightly to his chest. Though the redheaded pathologist isn't fully conscious, he can still feel the binary heartbeat. 

The corridor is long but it seemed to have expanded in size, each step resulting in more length. Of course, this has to do with the Doctor's--and the TARDIS'--fear, but that doesn't do anything to calm the Time Lord. 

Armitage slowly begins to stir in the Doctor's arms, simple movements that progressively get more complex. He begins by moving his fingers, then his arms, then his entire body, twisting around in his embrace. Every movement hurt worse than the last. It feels as if his entire body is on is burning and being torn apart by invisible flames. Armitage clutches at the Doctor's shoulders and opens his eyes the tiniest bit. Those curious green eyes, always so full of questions, are the best thing he's seen in a lifetime. 

"Doctor...what's..." He's so feeble, he can't even finish a statement. He falls into a bout of coughing so violent the Doctor can feel it in his very soul. Armitage holds on tighter, burying his head in the crook of the Doctor's neck. He feels so pathetic, being carried through the TARDIS like a child while he holds on for his life. But it hurts. Stars, does it hurt. He voices this pain to the Doctor, who merely laughs in response. He doesn't know what else to say; just hearing Armitage's voice is enough to reassure him. 

"I know, Armitage. Trust me, I know." The Doctor wants to say more, but he can't. The words just won't come. 

"What..." more coughing. "Hit me?"

"Blaster bolt." The Doctor says this so calmly you'd believe it wasn't real; that the pain his companion is feeling is nothing more than his imagination. "Don't worry, I don't think it hit anywhere vital." 

Armitage scoffs, which leads to more pained coughs and moans. "You don't think?" 

"I don't think it did. You would be feeling a lot more pain right now if it had...Actually, you'd probably be dead." 

"Well, that's...very comforting to hear." He winces in pain. "Why do I feel so terrible if it isn't that bad." 

"You were just hit by a super hot beam of super hot energy. What did you think was going to happen?" 

Armitage doesn't respond for several moments, sending the Doctor into another fit of panic. When he does speak, his voice is more tired and distant than it has ever been. "Doctor...why aren't I regenerating?" 

The question strikes a dagger of fear through the Doctor's twin hearts. He hadn't stopped to consider that question. Time Lords were known to have the ability to heal themselves after taking a death blow--meaning that when they were close to death, their body rebuilt itself in the form of someone new (except for their mind), curing all diseases and healing all wounds along with it. Every Time Lord had this ability, whether they knew it or not. 

And Armitage is definitely a Time Lord. 

The Doctor doesn't know of any kind of chemical or weapon that can render a Time Lord's body useless. The only explanation has to be something internal, something holding Armitage back from healing. But what is it?

"Doctor?" The man in question slows his pace and looks down at the man in his arms. A pair of eyes that have seen too much hate and death look up at him. They are the saddest things he's ever seen. "What's happening to me?" 

The Doctor fumbles for words, anything to reassure his companion. But he finds nothing. "I don't know, Armitage. I'm sorry, but I don't know," the Doctor says, offering his companion a reassuring and gentle smile. "But I do know that I won't let you die." 

Armitage returns his smile, though his is more broken. "You promise?" 

"I promise." 

Finally, the Doctor finds the infirmary sector of the TARDIS; it has been so long since he's had to use it. He shoulders open the doors. The ward is brighter than he remembers and the wing much smaller. It doesn't matter. There isn't enough time to dwell on such matters as the floors. Armitage is dying and the Doctor has a promise to keep. He lays his companion on the nearest bed, comforting him as he observes the readouts on the machines beside them. His vitals are dangerously low and his brain activity is speeding up. This is not good. 

"Armitage," the Doctor says, sitting on the mattress beside him. "Armitage, can you hear me?" He grips Armitage's hand, pressing two fingers on his wrist. His pulse is erratic at points, slow at others, but his brain activity remained the same; running a light-year a minute. "Okay...okay. You're losing your memories. Oh, this is fantastic." The Doctor stands and presses his hands to his temples, trying to force something into his mind that could save this man. He paces the floor before the bed, yelling at himself to just think! What can save a Time Lord who won't regenerate?

It's then that he realizes there is only one thing that can lure Armitage back from his dance with death; a procedure that's only been performed a few times. One that's far too risky for the Doctor to even consider. Of course, he knows how to do it, but does he want to? 

No. Never in his life. Especially not on him. 

"What choice do I have?" the Doctor asks nobody, gazing down at the distant from on the bed, fear and indecision gripping his hearts. Digging into someone's mind is incredibly dangerous, even on a healthy person. To do it on a dying one...who knows what the consequences will be? The Doctor turns to the monitor. His companions mind is still strong, but he doesn't have much time before he begins the descent to the final stages of death. 

Finally coming to a conclusion--which should have been clear, to begin with--the Doctor returns to his spot beside Armitage, looking at him softly before brushing strands of red hair back from his temples, placing his fingertips there gently. His skin was still normal temperature, which was a good sign. The Doctor takes several deep breaths before leaning down to press his forehead to Armitage's. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry." 

That's when it begins. 

The Time Lord casts his consciousness out into a darkness so heavy it's suffocating. He focuses all of his attention on this blackness, blocking out the unsteady rhythm of the heart monitor. His head begins to hurt, a dull ache that grows to a terrible migraine. The Doctor wants to quit, wants to stop the pressure that's pushing against his skull. But he can't. He promised to keep Armitage alive and he's going to do that, even if it costs him a little pain. 

It feels like years until he brushes the first wisp of another mind It's so subtle, you wouldn't have noticed it was there. But the Doctor did, and he holds onto that small of consciousness like it's a lifeline. It is cold and holds an unholy amount of sadness that nobody should know. It hurts the Doctor deeply; he knows what it's like to feel that sad, that alone. You shouldn't have to go through that. 

Slowly, that amount of blue energy grew larger and easier to grasp. By this point, the Doctor's mind feels like it's being torn apart slowly; he swears he can feel the individual membranes ripping apart, like the stitching on a piece of fabric. 

As soon as the merger started it was over. The Doctor's head no longer hurts, but he still moves cautiously away from Armitage, unsure of how long it will last. The redheaded man doesn't move; he just lies there. However, when the Doctor checks his vital signs, the appeared to be normal; most importantly, his brain activity is back to a steady pace. 

"YES!" The Time Lord yells, running his hands through his hair and gripping the brown locks in relief. "It worked! You're going to be okay!" Everything is going to be alright. 

At least, that's what the Doctor hopes.


	2. Part Two

The first thing Armitage feels when he wakes is a bright light. It's like looking at the sun if it had twice the brightness. He squints his eyes and covers them with his forearm. He's lying on a hill; an orange hill. He props himself up on one elbow and slowly adjusts to the light, blinking rapidly. The grass--at least, Armitage thinks it's grass--beneath him is softer than anything on Earth and varies in bright shades of orange and yellow. The grass in the valley below is covered with something that resembled snow. Armitage draws his gaze across the horizon and stops on a large glass dome. Within the glass was a large building, made of jagged edges and towers. It was imposing and fills Armitage with a sense of familiarity. He stares at the structure, captivated by its beauty. 

However, that sense of beauty was soon destroyed. 

It happens so fast, Armitage isn't even sure it's real. One moment, the building is standing tall and dominant; the next, it's a pile of ruins. The Time Lord can feel the heat of the flames from where he is on the hill. He feels a familiar loss, despite not knowing the place or where he is. 

"You're on Gallifrey," a familiar voice says. Armitage stands up quickly, glancing around for the source of the voice. 

Upon seeing nothing, he asks, "Doctor?" 

"That's me...hello!" he responds joyfully. 

"Where am I? What's going on? Where are you?" 

"Shh, don't worry about that. You're safe now, for a while at least."

"Can you tell me where I am...and how I can hear you?" 

"That's...a bit more complicated. It'll take too long to explain." 

"Well, you'd better get started," Armitage says, crossing his arms and cocking his hip to the side. "I've got a long time." 

"Yeah, about that..." a voice says from behind Armitage. This time, it wasn't in his head. This voice also sounded familiar, though he didn't know why. Armitage wheels around to be met with a man, much taller than him, clad in tight black clothing. Armitage simply stares in confusion at the figure towering over him. He finds it difficult to breathe and his hearts are beating against his chest at a frantic pace. He tries to speak but he can't; it's as if his voice is caught in his throat. The man laughs, a deep, derisive laugh. 

"So...you must be the one I've heard so much about," the man says, a devilish smile on his face. "It's wonderful to have finally met you." 

When Armitage finally finds his voice, he can manage nothing more than, "I...I don't know who you are..." His whole body is shaking, despite the stillness of his voice. 

"Oh, now that wounds me," the man says, feigning hurt. He steps closer to Armitage, still grinning. He stops barely a foot away from the Time Lord. "The most famous man on Gallifrey, yet he doesn't even know his enemy's name. Tsk, tsk, tsk... a pity." 

"What...what do you mean, 'the most famous man on Gallifrey'? I don't even know what this place is!" 

"Armitage," the Doctor cautions. "Be careful." 

The man was laughing now, doubled over and coughing. Armitage doesn't understand what is so funny; is he supposed to know what's going on?

"You mean to tell me," he begins, pausing to wipe his eyes. "That you don't even know your own reputation?"

"That's what I'm saying, yeah." 

"Armitage..." 

Whatever the Doctor says next is cut off by the screeching of metal on metal and a growl that shakes the ground. Armitage instinctively looks up; he's had dealings with things that made similar sounds and it wasn't a pleasant experience. What he saw is the most incredible, yet dangerous, thing he's ever laid eyes on. The creature circles above them for a few seconds longer before touching down on the orange grass beside the darkly dressed man. The thing closely resembles a dragon, yet it made of metal and clockwork gears. It has glowing yellow eyes and a deadly mouth, pulled back in a gruesome snarl. The man rests a hand on the metal wing that wrapped itself protectively around him, as if reassuring a skittish kitten. 

"Who are you?" Armitage asks exasperatedly, taking a shaky step backward, not taking his eyes off the dragon. 

"The answer to that is simple..." The man taps the metallic wing a couple times, which then allows its captive to leave. "To many, I am known as the 'Oncoming Storm'... but to those of Gallifrey I am simply known as the Lord of Darkness." 

Armitage doesn't understand the meaning of the name, but the Doctor knows it all too well.

After all, he is the one who created the name. 

"The Outcast and the Lord of Darkness," the Doctor hears the man say. He can feel all the terror that Armitage felt, yet none of the confusion. He knew what was going to happen and it's all his fault. He knew it was going to happen if he let Armitage into his mind. Why was I so stupid? 

"...Doctor? What's going on?" Armitage asks, voice full of terror, though it was nothing more than a whisper. 

"Armitage..." the Time Lord begins, tone laced with sorrow. "Armitage, I'm sorry. I'm so, so..." Armitage Holmes--the Outcast--never heard what the Doctor had to say. It was at that moment that their mental connection went blurred, yet his vitals were still steady. 

But he continued to say it anyway. "...sorry. I'll find a way to get you out of this...I won't leave you alone again. I promised you a life of travel. I promised to take you to the far reaches of space. I won't break that promise, not now. I've lost everyone I've ever loved...I can't afford to lose you, too.

"Armitage Holmes, if you can hear me, I want you to understand this promise: I will destroy the very thing I created and get us both out of here alive. I can't leave you alone again. 

The Doctor sits on the edge of the mattress and grasps Armitage's left hand tightly in his own. He takes several deep breaths and plunges back into the darkness of his mind. This time, however, he isn't searching for another mind...

He's searching for a soul.


End file.
